CrowningGlory
by Fancy-Hart
Summary: Mentions rape (Trigger) Why does HB keep her hair long? Why does ID keep hers short? No idea whether to continue this.


It was well past the witching hour and just before dawn. The night sky was black as ink and only the flapping of bird's wings and the occasional meow of a cat in slumber could be heard. Unless you were Imogen Hardbroom - who could also hear a steady, reassuring drum of her wife's heartbeat. dumdum dumdum dumdum dum- *knock knock* Imogen frowned slightly in her slumber and stirred. The knock persisted. This time it woke the Deputy Head also.

"What time is it?" She grumbled. She cast a spell and looked at the ghostly green figures suspended in the air, which then evaporated in a shapeless cloud. "4.45 am" She groaned. The knocking became banging.

"We're coming!" called Imogen. She slid out of the bed and proceeded to the door, before realising she was nude. (Hey she was in bed with her wife and they'd had fun - so sue her) She turned to the said dark haired beauty, who was now leant against the headboard, gathering and tucking her long hair back into a ponytail. "Er, love?" Constance turned, and sighed. She snapped her fingers and Imogen was clothed in her usual jumper, jeans and trainers. "Thank you" She proceeded to the door, to find Miss Cackle at the door looking hap hazard.

"Amelia?"

"Imogen, you must bring Constance quick - its Mildred Hubble sh-"

"What's she done now?" interrupted Mrs Hardbroom. Miss Cackle made to enter, but Constance used her powers to close the space between Imogen and the door. "She's not dressed" Imogen gave by way of explanation, although she was shocked at her wife's actions. Miss Cackle though it odd, she knew of the Deputy's ability to dress herself by use of craft. It was an emergency too - what was the problem?

"Constance - Broomhead hurt her, she has placed some sort of curse on her. She can't move, can't speak - she looks like a statue. I have never seen anything like it before. We need your expertise."

Imogen turned to look at her wife (who was now sat at the dressing table, tuning the ponytail into her usual bun) at mention of her formidable ex tutor. She said nothing, but waited for the other woman's reaction. She received none, which did nothing to calm her worries for the witch. Constance had now finished putting her hair up. She turned in the chair she was sat on at the dressing table and looked at her wife. "I will be with you in 5 minutes Amelia, go ahead I will meet you there. In the meantime, be sure to lay Miss Hubble on her back on something soft and cover her eyes."

"Yes Constance." The older woman hurried off, and Imogen closed the door behind her, just as Constance snapped her fingers to find herself dressed in her normal black attire.

"Do not look at me like that." She stood up and proceeded to the shorter blonde woman.

"Like what?" Imogen gave a half grin.

"Like you think I am about to fall to pieces at the slight mention of that woman's name?" Imogen's eyes cast downwards with guilt. Constance used two fingers to direct her wife's eyes up at her. "I appreciate your worry - I know it is borne of love, but you needn't. I am safe, I have you and Amelia and many others in this school that can protect me. She can do nothing to me." She leaned forward and left short kiss on her wife's lips. She then wiped the lipstick of Imogen's lips. "hmm, not your colour love." Imogen laughed. She leant into brush her cheek against Imogen's before promising she would be back soon. As the door closed behind her, she did not hear the whisper of her wife "I can't protect you."

Constance didn't return until early that evening, she was exhausted. Imogen looked up from her work out session as the brunette walked through the door the exhaustion was evident on the portion mistress's face. She placed her dumbbells on the ground and walked toward her wife, who was sitting on the bed head tilted back towards the ceiling eyes closed fingers twisting around each other in her lap. She gave a quiet sigh. Constance felt the bed dip as the shorter blonde moved to sit behind her to massage her shoulders. She hummed in contentment.

"What happened? Is everyone all right?" Asked the P.E teacher.

"She almost didn't make it." Whispered Constance. Imogen immediately stopped the massage

"What?!"

"I almost killed her "

"It was hardly your fault Co-"

"Amelia was livid it took so long to come down stairs, she's never yelled at me like that before. I was so upset; I wasn't paying attention and i added to much pickled mandrake - the potion exploded all over myself and Hubble - in her weakened state the sedative properties of the mandrake caused her heart to stop. Thank Merlin Amelia had been at that mortal first aid class or she'd be dead. I never even though to get you. I froze - I just froze...I froze..."

The witch trailed off, the shock started to settle across her body and make itself evident in her facial features. Her wife crawled around to her side and took her hands into her own, with her other hand she traced a finer down the a pale cheek, waiting for the witch to open her eyes.

"Amelia was worried, you know she loves you like a daughter and the pupils of this school are her charges she loves them all like family. You did nothing wrong."

"I nearly killed her Imogen! I know the girl gets on my nerves, but I would never -"

"I know that and Amelia knows that. Anyone who knows you knows you would _never_ harm another person - especially not a child!"

The two sat in silence for a moment. "Come, let's go to bed and we can talk in the morning if you wish." Constance said nothing but did move to get undressed. Leaving a worried Imogen in her wake.

A few hours later the women were curled in bed. Constance lay on her back her hair loose, draped along the pillow and fell off the side of the bed. Imogen had her head on the silky material that lay above the witch's heart. She could hear her favourite sound in the world dumdum dumdum dumdum. She heard Constance sigh. "can't sleep?" the witch kissed the top of Imogen's head and seemed to bury her way into her hair. She shook her head.

"no"

"Cons-" The P.E teacher looked up, she was cut off by her wife kissing her gently

"I know love" the witch kissed her again. "I am just a bit upset about Amelia. I think I should do my best to stay on her good side for the next few weeks, and I'll just have to learn a spell for putting my hair up. Or cut it.

"You can't"

"Oh, I can't?"

"Please Constance, it's so beautiful, you are so beautiful with it - no, please."

"I didn't think my hair meant that much to you."

"It is a part of you which means I love it."

The witch gave a small satisfied smile. Silence settled again, neither woman was in the mood for sleeping. Constance hand that was on the arm around her shorter wife, began to trace up and down the P.E teacher's side. Imogen, who had returned her ear to her favourite sound, tapped the beat of the witch's heart lightly on Constance's chest. She was lost in thought. Constance other hand which had laid softly on her flat stomach, reached up to still Imogen's moving hand.

"What is on your mind love?"

"hmm?" She looked up at the witch "Nothing." Smiled the P.E teacher who looked back at her hand that as still encased in the witch's on top of her chest. Constance let go of her hand to coax Imogen's face towards hers.

"I have known you for nearly twenty years, seven of those we have been lovers and five spouses. I have seen you in every state imaginable, including in thought. I know when something is bothering you. Now either tell me or force me to worry about you until you do."

"why?" asked Imogen timidly

Constance laughed. "My love if you have to ask that then I am not a very good wife. Of course I would worry for you, it comes with the territory it is part of lov-" she frowned. "Imogen, she pulled back do they touched only up to their hips "Imogen, you do know I love you? I show that to you right? - You don't want for anything in the home do you?-"

Imogen crawled closer to the worried witch, she placed her hands on either side of the dark haired beauty's face and smiled. "Darling you are the best wife anyone could ask for. You amaze me every day with the amount of love you show and have for me - It makes me so sad for anyone who does not get to have someone like you loving them in their lives. I only hope I am half a good a spouse as you" She kissed her wife. Again silence reigned as the two women lay back in their original position.

"What I meant was, why do you always pin your hair up - it is so beautiful and it _was _an emergency." At this she felt her wife stiffen. "I am not scolding you, you just always react so quickly to emergencies - the Constance I know would have snapped her fingers, been dressed and flashed to the scene. I am just confused. "

Imogen looked up at her wife who had remained silent throughout this. "You and I have only ever experienced emergencies whilst we were fully clothed. " She watched the witch take a breath and slide herself up so that she was sitting against the headboard before she began her explanation.

"My mother was a staunch catholic." she noticed the shock on her partner's face. "Yes we do have witch's who practice a religion." she teased. "From I was very young I knew that I was to keep my hair long - to not cut it. It was my crowning glory, it was what I should use to wash the son of God's feet, should I reach heaven. I didn't realise until many years later that this was not the normal teaching of Catholicism, but by then i was in my early 20s and had become attached to it - I was the girl with long hair. It was around than that I headed to college, where I met a young man who wined and dined me and made me feel as though I was the only other person on earth. After a while of being together, he wanted to take our relationship to the next level - I didn't. After some talking he realised that I was pure in that sense. That's when everything changed."

Imogen glanced quickly at her wife. "Hush love - it isn't what you think" She slid her thumb along the non-witch's cheek and sighed. "Anyway, we went to a local pub one night to watch a stand up comedian, that wasn't very comedic. I had one glass of wine too much and needed him to drive me home. I don't remember much after that. I woke up to find my hair cut to my shoulders and my underwear removed - I was untouched though. Something for which I am still grateful for to this day. It seems you can make many a potion with virgin hair. As for the rest - well he apparently thought that was his to take he just wasn't able to make himself go through with it. Although since then I have heard stories of wizards who believe having sex with a virgin can multiply their powers."

Imogen pulled herself up to eye level with the witch. "That wasn't about sex love, you know that right - that wasn't love. It was about power and control"

Constance smiled. "I know, what you and I do is love - what he did was, was -"

"Was unforgivable and if I ever find him I will kill him I will -"

She was cut off by her wife kissing her. "Thank you love, you have no idea how happy your willingness to defend me makes me, but he died numerous years ago, and I really am okay - it happened a long time ago.

"I still want to kill him." growled Imogen, making Constance laugh quietly, as she kissed her defender on the nose and pulled her head to her chest. Constance soon felt the material on her chest begin to dampen, and looking down realised her wife had silent tears falling from her bright eyes.

"Imo- Imogen love what's wrong?"

"Nothing I just, it's a lot to take in."

"Oh honey, come here." She opened her arms for the mortal to curl into, and place her head on her wife's shoulder. "Hush love, I said I was fine."

A mumble was given in reply. Unable to understand, Constance pulled back so she could look down at the woman on her shoulder, before manoeuvring them so they both laid on their sides looking at each other. She held on to the other woman's hand. "What was that?"

"It's not just that".

"What do you mean?" asked the witch as she stroked the knuckles on Imogen's hand.

"You are so strong, and so brave and I can't believe someone hurt you in that way and I couldn't protect you, and I can't make it better and you went through that alone." Constance gently wiped the tears that were flowing from her wife.

"Love, Imogen I'm _fine_"

"But you shouldn't have to be!" Imogen clenched her fists. "I am so _sick_ of hearing about stupid wankers who think they can just take what they want that they can decide when and they end up hurting women and men and I just- AGH!" At this point the non witch was up and pacing the room, ranting to herself. Constance sat up with her arms crossed and watch her with a bemused raised eyebrow. "Do you realise that in united Kingdom, 250,000 girls are being sexual abused or raped at any one time?! Con- that's the size of our school, times 125! at any one time then, _then!" _The outraged woman turned to look at her wife , who at this point had moved to the side of the bed, worry creeping on her face. "54% of these girls will end up being molested or raped again. And don't get me wrong - I know boys are hurt too, and my God it is just as bad. But I can't help feeling that women are that bit more vulnerable. Once it's gone it's gone Constance. Once they take it away from you, you lose a sense of yourself - you become lost and broken and you spent the rest of your time in primary school wondering if the reason you want to kiss your female teacher is because she isn't a man, and she doesn't have the scary voice and she can't hurt you." Constance's face fell as realizaion began to dawn on her, she stood up off the bed and stepped toward her wife, but allowed her room to pace - she was working herself into a fit. "And to think all you have to do is learn to defend yourself. One hour a week and you can do it, can take on anyone. But it isn't offered and who wants to train to defend themselves against men, by having men attack them so they can practice?! It's stupid! So you cut your hair. Nothing for anyone to grab, right? If your dad let you, you would go bald. But no, and then youre out one night, sober, in jeans and a jumper and your hair gets pulled. And then when they found out you're pregnant and you can't tell them who the father is and they look at you with disgust but you can't tell them because once they know, they _know_ and they never look at you the same way ever again and you never feel the same way ever again you're dirty and used and disgusting -" Constance caught her wife before she collapsed to the floor. She slowly lowered them both so that she was kneeling and Imogen was laid on her knees, with her head cradled by her wife's arms to her chest. The potions mistress was in shock, having never heard any of this before, she felt her eyes begin to shed tears of shock and pain for her beloved. She stared at the P.E teacher, who pushed herself away from the chest and seemed to focus on something Constance was unable to see. She spoke softly, awe in her voice. "And then, after 36 hours of the worst pain you have felt in your life, they hand you this, this tiny little thing only about this size"" she demonstrated with her hands "and Constance it was like someone inject me with opiates - I felt like the happiest woman alive. Until she opened her eyes and, and it's him. She's half him"

Constance nodded grimly at the shivering woman in her arms, of course, it made sense. The child would have looked like the attacker.

Imogen gave a sarcastic grunt. She looked back at her wife "Oh no, not him, she didn't look like the guy who put you in the dumpster." She began to laugh hysterically. "No!" came out in a shrill voice. "Worse. She's half him, she's half her dad, or should I say grandfather? I never know. It's a bit of, it's a bit-"

Constance managed to turn Imogen just in time for the blonde to be violently sick all over the floor. She carried her unconscious wife back to bed. After wiping her up and tucking her in, she sat on her chair by her vanity, far too shocked and awake to even think of getting into bed. As she processed the new information, round and around in circles it went in her head, she had one thought that would repeat.

"Well Fuck."

She cast a silencing spell and a monitoring spell to alert her should Imogen wake up. She then moved to the bathroom where she sat on the floor and wept and cursed and screamed and threw things and punched the wall and pounded on the tiles until they cracked and cut her knuckles, and she continued until she had nothing left in her, until her body racked with sobs even though her tear ducts had long dried out.


End file.
